Episode 2 The arrangement
by KayDee35
Summary: Episode 2 with added scenes, including most scenes of the director's cut. Final version


**The arrangement**

XXX

Dedicated to Henry Darrow and Cameron Mitchell,

the two wonderful actors

who made Manolito Montoya and Buck Cannon

come to life.

XXX

Three days later Buck and John arrived in a Mexican village near the border.

"Señoras, what's the name of this town?" Buck asked the women at the fountain.

"Nogales," the older woman told him.

"And does this town have a saloon?" Buck asked the more important question.

"The cantina is right across the street," she said, pointing to the other side of the road.

Buck lifted his hat. "Muchas gracias." They rode across the street and stopped in front of a house with an open door.

"This looks like it," Big John said.

Buck looked around in disappointment. "Well, it ain't much of a saloon."

"It's better than nothing," his brother countered.

"Anything's better than nothing," Buck laughed as they tied their horses at the hitching rack. "A little thirsty, Big John."

"Well, let's go in," his brother answered dryly.

Buck went through the swinging doors and took off his hat. "Big John, mi casa es su casa," he smiled.

Big John nodded. "A welcome sight."

The Cannon brothers approached the bartender, a feisty man, who was sitting on a chair, sound asleep. This early in the day, there were usually no customers. He had opened just out of habit.

"Hey, look at this. Hey, amigo. Amigo." Buck had to shout for a while.

The man woke up slowly, but at long last he realised he had guests. "Señor, what can I do for you?" he asked, his voice still a bit sleepy.

"Whisky," Buck told him repeatedly until the man's eyes brightened.

"Sí, señor," the bartender finally nodded.

"Gracias." Buck smiled in anticipation.

"Sientate." The barkeeper bowed, then went to get the bottle.

"Muchas gracias. Muy cansado, muy thirsty," Buck explained when the man came back to pour them each a glass.

"Cansado? Muy thirsty?" he repeated Buck's statement with a smile.

Buck raised his glass, took a sip - and spit his mouthful over the table. "That ain't whisky!" he said indignantly.

"It's tequila," the bartender answered apologetically.

"But I wanted whisky," Buck said in disappointment.

"Tequila's all we have."

"Tequila. Sorta figures, don't it," Buck sighed. He raised his glass, toasting his brother. "Salud, amigo."

"Salud," the bartender answered with a smile.

"Cheers," John said, drank - and grimaced as well.

"Ay, Chico," they suddenly heard a voice from the upper floor where the guest rooms were located. A man who looked like a tramp or worse, a bandit, stepped onto the balustrade. "Chico, dame otra botella de tequila," he shouted into the guest room, drank up his glass and did a double take. Something had seemed familiar. Judging by the dismayed expression, the other must have recognised him as well.

The tramp laughed at John. "Hey, amigo. Amigo with the good-looking horse. Hey, wait. I'm going to be right down." He vanished back into his room.

"Brother John, who's your friend?" Buck laughed.

John looked at his brother sullenly. "The one who got my horse." He drank up and poured himself another glass.

"Señor, he is your friend?" the bartender spoke up.

John nodded stonily. "You might say that."

"Please, señor, persuade him to leave my cantina. The rurales are looking for him. If they find him here, se le cortó …" The bartender drew an imaginary rope around his neck.

The Cannon brothers worriedly looked at him. They did not understand the Spanish words, but the meaning was clear.

"Corto?" Buck ask, repeating the gesture. "Why? What did he do?"

"He had a quarrel with a rurales officer, and it ended with the officer's untimely death. Very unfortunate," Chico explained with a slight smile. Buck grinned wordlessly back.

The tramp hurried down the stairs, still busy tucking his shirt into his pants. "Hey, you did not go away. Good, good. I'm gonna buy you a drink," he grinned as he approached the table. Buck moved his hat so that the Mexican could sit down. "Oh, what joy, what a surprise it is to see you like this. So tell me. What brings you to Mexico?"

"Where's my horse?" John demanded stonily.

"Oh, er, oh, paso. I had to leave him with a friend," the Mexican stammered, still standing beside the chair.

Buck laughed, and the tramp finally sat down. "A relative. He wanted him. I could not refuse," he explained, then turned to the barkeeper. "Chico, buy my friends a drink."

Buck took the bottle, which was still on the table, and topped up their glasses, pouring the Mexican a drink as well.

"Forget your horse. I saved your life, didn't I? Does that not mean more than one horse?" the tramp asked quietly. When John made a halfway approving face, he laughed. "It was a burro, anyway."

"A burro," Buck chuckled in amazement.

The tramp raised his glass. "Salud, señores."

When it came to paying, John Cannon had another surprise coming. The Mexican who had invited him searched his pockets for money but came up blank. "Could you loan me a peso?" he asked John with a smile. "I'm a little short. I sold my rifle."

With a patronizing air John took a dollar out of his pocket and laid it on the table.

"Gracias," the tramp thanked him. "Another one, Chico."

"The bottle is still there," the man hinted.

"Gracias, amigo," Buck told the tramp, refilling their glasses once more.

"Andale. Hey, you did not tell me what brings you to Mexico," the tramp suddenly remembered.

"I'm looking for someone," Big John told him with an expressionless face.

"Someone to rob?" the Mexican guessed. John shook his head; his brother laughed. "Someone to kill?" Buck roared with laughter. "What then, hombre?" the tramp wanted to know.

Big John decided to lay the cards on the table. "I am looking for Don Sebastian Montoya."

All of a sudden, the two Mexicans became serious. "Montoya," the tramp said slowly.

Buck tapped him on the shoulder. "Amigo, we just want to talk to him."

"Yeah, sure," the other said in disbelief, then turned back to John. "He is a very big hombre in this country, señor. What do you want to talk to him about?"

"I am John Cannon," the rancher introduced himself.

The answer was not quite what he had expected. The Mexican began to laugh uproariously. "You? You are the gringo? And I stole your horse. Oh, this is very funny, very funny, señor. You are the Señor Cannon."

His laugh was so infectious that the others could not keep from smiling as well. "Amigo, tell me. What's so funny?" Buck asked, chuckling.

"The whole thing is hilarious." The tramp tried to take a sip from his glass but had to put it down again as another bout of amusement shook him.

"We don't think so," Buck grinned.

"Oh, but you will, you will see," the Mexican managed to get out between whoops of laughter.

John and Buck looked blankly at each other, then at Chico. The barkeeper smiled as well, although somewhat forced, to confirm the statement of his fellow Mexican.

The tramp calmed down with an effort and mischievously looked at John. "Hey, you know something? You know that Don Sebastian Montoya is very angry with you, señor? No, I mean he is furious with you."

"Do you know where he lives?" John asked stonily.

This brought on another laughing bout, worse than before. "Do I- do I-?" The tramp rested his head on the table, almost dying with laughter.

"Hey, amigo. Amigo, here." Buck poured his glass of tequila on the other's neck and patted it solicitously. "To cool down," he explained.

"Oh, Señor Cannon, this joke is too good to take all at once," the tramp finally managed to get out, looking up again, wiping his eyes. Buck looked at him doubtfully.

"Look, if you want to retreat," the Mexican said more quietly, "you come back this afternoon, and I, Manolito, will take you personally to meet this Don Sebastian Montoya. But you must understand one thing. He will probably have us all shot." After a moment he pointed a finger at John and suddenly began to laugh aloud, as if he himself had just told a good joke. Buck and John also laughed. The barkeeper looked at his guests and grinned uncomprehendingly.

Manolito stood to return to his room. "Excuse me, but I have some unfinished business," he told the Cannon brothers. Near the door he broke into a new fit of laughter. "Aw, I stole your horse."

"He's a barrel of fun, ain't he," Buck said cheerfully to his brother. Big John looked far less cheerful since the joke was at his expense.

On the way up Manolito glanced through the open door. He had noticed movement out of the corner of his eyes. "Andale," he drawled, running his fingers through his hair.

"What's the matter?" John asked.

Manolito came back to their table. "Rurales! Policía. If they find me here, ay chihuahua," he said hastily, drawing an imaginary rope around his neck. "Chico, you haven't seen me, comprende?" He ran back into his room.

"Sí, señor," the bartender confirmed, starting for the relative safety of his counter.

Buck held him back. "Mira, amigo, who or what are the rurales?" he wanted to know.

"Uniformed bandits. Not policía," Chico whispered behind his hand, again trying to retreat behind his counter.

Buck quickly grabbed the man's sleeve and pulled him back to their table once more. "What will they do if they catch him?" Buck wanted to be sure that they were not duped again. This Manolito character was too much in the mood for joking for his taste.

"Shoot him," the barkeeper cried and almost jumped behind the counter.

Buck looked at his brother in disgust. "Let's get out of here." He stood and went to the door.

"Wait," John called to him. "Let's have another drink."

Buck stopped near the entrance, toasting his brother. He took a sip, then turned back to the door through which three rurales were coming. One of the men pointed his gun at Buck.

"Buenos días. Salud," Buck toasted the rurales, keeping a careful eye on the gun.

"What are you two gringos doing in this village?" the leader of the rurales demanded to know. He was a tough-looking Mexican ex-bandit; a vicious, deadly, humourless man with unblinking eyes. Like a rattlesnake, Buck thought with a grimace but held his tongue.

"Having a drink," Big John replied stonily and proceeded to ignore the newcomers.

"You have business here?" the interrogation continued.

John nodded curtly.

"What kind of business?"

"My own," John said icily, still not looking up.

The leader looked uncertainly to his men, then let it be. He went to the bar, slapping his whip soundly on the counter. "Tequila!" he snarled.

"Sí, señor." The barkeeper cleaned three glasses with shaking hands and poured the man a drink. Buck looked at his brother. John signalled him to keep quiet.

The leader took a sip, then turned to Chico. "I have reason to believe you are hiding the thief and murderer Manolito in this place." He tapped his index finger on the counter. "Here in this house."

When the bartender did not answer, the leader grabbed him by the collar and pulled him closer. "Is that correct?" he hissed.

"Señor, I-" Chico stammered. He looked pleadingly to his guests before he fell silent.

"Do you know the penalty for hiding a criminal from the rurales?" the leader asked threateningly.

"He's not hiding him," Big John interjected.

The leader let go of his victim. Glass in hand, he sat down at John's table. "You know this man, gringo?"

"Yup," John confirmed with a curt nod, calmly taking another sip.

The face of the other twitched. "You know where he is hiding?" he asked gleefully.

"Yep," Big John nodded again. Buck looked at his brother in astonishment. John gestured casually with his glass to the upper floor. "Up there in that room."

"Juan, Manuel," the leader ordered, "get him."

Buck looked worriedly around, then looked questioningly at his brother.

Manolito stepped onto the balustrade. "Some friend, eh." He gestured with his straw hat towards John. "Don't you know what they are going to do to me?"

Big John grinned slightly. "Yeah. They're gonna shoot you."

"Muchas gracias." Manolito did not resist when the rurales led him down into the barroom. He knew he was no match for two drawn revolvers.

"Gracias," the leader told John, albeit in a much different tone. Big John toasted him.

Buck could not believe this was happening. He could not believe that his brother handed a man over to bandits because of a stolen horse. Still, he waited, hoping for an opportinuty to free the tramp. He watched the rurales with eagle's eyes as they pushed Manolito to the door.

"Señor." Big John stood up and approached the leader. "Señor, it's very hot today. We have time for one more drink," he suggested. He turned his head and looked firmly at his brother. Buck closed his eyes and slowly exhaled.

The leader hesitated a moment. Then he took his prisoner by the arm and pushed him on a chair. "Why not?" he asked cheerfully. He had never rejected a drink before, so why start now? It seemed these gringos had some respect for him, after all, and wanted to curry favours with him. That was nice for a change. Most people treated him with as much contempt as they dared to show openly. "Gracias, señor," he thanked John again and went back to the bar with him.

"And he said he was my friend," Manolito let fly in disappointment. He was stuck with the other two rurales and could not escape.

Buck handed one of those men his glass. "Tequila. Muy, muy bueno," he explained in his limited Spanish and made an inviting gesture. The man sat down with him at the next table.

The leader nodded in Manolito's direction. "Tell me, señor, where did you meet this man?" he asked Big John.

"He stole my horse," the rancher replied truthfully.

"He stole your horse?" the other laughed, looking incredulous.

John nodded grimly and let his fist connect with the man's chin. Buck and Manolito promptly did the same with their respective opponents. When the rurales were knocked out, Buck and Manolito laughed in relief. Big John came to them, wearing a slight smile, too. Manolito, his legs feeling a little rubbery, had sat down on a chair. He looked up at John, noticing the rancher's suddenly not so friendly expression. He stood up, feeling uncertain again.

Big John stonily looked at him for a moment. "Now we're even," he said with a grin that got broader with every word. "Except for the horse."

Manolito laughed in relief once more. Together with the Cannon brothers, he left the cantina.

Buck turned back at the door. "Hasta luego," he called out to the bartender.

The man peeked cautiously over his counter. Buck threw him a dollar, which put a timid smile on Chico's face.

"Gracias." The barkeeper looked reverently down on the sleeping rurales. He had been extremely lucky to get out of this dilemma with impunity.

After an eternity the uniformed bandits came back to the land of the living. The leader leaned unsteadily on his whip, meekly grabbing Chico's collar. "You haven't seen a thing. There was no one here," he hissed. "Neither Manolito nor the two gringos. We just interrogated you, searched the rooms and moved on. Do you understand?"

"Sí, sí, señor," Chico hastened to confirm, vigorously bobbing his head a few times.

"And don't you forget, or we'll be back," the leader threatened and left with his men.

XXX

Manolito kept his word. He led the Cannon brothers to Don Sebastian. At the border of the property, an iron gate with a sculptured lion on each stone pillar, he turned to his two companions. "There it is, señores. That is the old lion's den. Let us hope that like Daniel we can ride into it safely." He turned around with a laugh and rode on. The guards let them pass unchallenged. On the hacienda, too, the doors opened without dispute. Manolito led the Cannon brothers into Don Sebastian's office.

The lord of the rancho sat at his desk, studying his visitors with an unfriendly gaze. "It is good to see you again, Manolito," he finally said.

"It is always good to see you, sir," the tramp replied. "I have brought some gringo friends of mine."

Don Sebastian glanced at the other two visitors, then turned back to Manolito. "Who are they?" he asked curtly.

"They are the señores John and Buck Cannon." Manolito turned to his two friends. "May I present - my father."

Stunned, Buck quickly took off his hat and looked at the others. Don Sebastian and Big John both kept a straight face. Manolito burst out laughing but was quickly subdued by the venomous look his father shot him.

"How did you come to meet him?" Don Sebastian wanted to know, pointing disdainfully at his son.

"That is a long story," John replied.

"That I am sure of. Did he steal something?" Don Sebastian enquired further.

Manolito signalled John that he should not say anything, but Big John decided that it was now his turn to have some fun. He smiled at Manolito as he answered: "He stole my horse."

Don Sebastian threw his son a disapproving look. Manolito stared back defiantly.

"He is a wild one, this one," the father finally sighed, ending the battle of wills, and Manolito smiled again. "One day someone will kill him for it." Manolito laughed sheepishly. "Perhaps it will be me."

This time it was Buck who burst out laughing, thinking Don Sebastian had meant to make a joke. He quickly became serious again when he saw the resigned look on Manolito's face. The Mexican seemed to take his father's threat quite seriously.

"In the meantime, señores," Don Sebastian continued, "you will please be our guests for dinner this evening. This way I may begin to repay the debt owed by my son for your horse."

"Thank you, Don Sebastian." John bowed slightly. "We'll be honoured."

"De nada, señor." For a moment Don Sebastian looked daggers at Manolito before he turned back to his guests. "You know, in a way you owe my son a great favour," he announced.

Buck and John looked at each other in confusion. "Well, just how do you figure that, Don Sebastian?" Buck asked.

"I had promised myself to kill you both the moment I saw you," the man said disappointedly. "Now it will have to wait. At least until after supper."

Manolito laughed again. "Oh, Papa," he said consolingly, waving his hand.

Don Sebastian graced his son with a stern look. "Maybe you want to make yourself useful for a change and take our guests to their room before you dress in something decent."

Manolito nodded and turned, waving for Buck and John to follow him.

"Dinner will be at eight," Don Sebastian added as an afterthought while turning to the next item on his agenda. They were dismissed. Don Sebastian was a very busy man.

A servant led the Cannon brothers to the dining room. Don Sebastian received them at the door and asked them to sit down at the table. He himself, being the lord of the hacienda, sat at the head. Big John was placed on his right, Buck on his left-hand side. As soon as they had taken their seats, the aperitif was served.

"Please explain to me the reason for your visit," Don Sebastian opened the conversation after the usual polite inquiries as to his guests' well-being.

"As you know, the Apaches are on the warpath to avenge the death of Cochise's blood brother Mangas Coloradas," John began. "And I suppose they are giving you as much trouble as they are giving us."

Don Sebastian tasted the wine and nodded to his butler to fill the glasses, then turned to John. "It is true, Señor Cannon. I have had much trouble with the Apache. He has been raiding me all week. He has killed twenty-eight of my men and taken two hundred head of my best cattle. It is getting worse."

John glanced at his brother. "It doesn't have to get worse. If we cover each other's flanks and agree to send out regular patrols, yours from the south, and mine from the north."

"A mutual aggreement to cross each other's territory in hot pursuit, eh?"

"Yes," nodded Big John. "If we move jointly against the Apaches, we can beat them."

"How am I to know that I can trust you?" Don Sebastian wanted to know. "I have had one experience with you and your men. It was not pleasant. Your men are very good at fighting, but how am I to know, how might I be assured, you will not lead me into a trap?"

"I might ask the same question," Big John said stiffly.

"You have my word," Don Sebastian replied arrogantly.

"And you have mine," John countered frostily.

The Don nodded. They had reached an impasse in their negotiations. Footsteps sounded in the hallway. The men turned to the newcomers. Buck had to look twice before he recognised Manolito. The tramp looked very posh in his red velvet suit, minus the beard. John, however, had eyes only for the woman. She was wearing a purple evening dress, a black veil and a matching fan.

The men rose. Manolito led his companion to the table. "Señores Cannon, la presenta Señorita Victoria Velazquez DeSoto de Montoya," he announced.

"Señores." Victoria gracefully inclined her head.

"Mucho gusto," Buck smiled with an admiring look.

John bowed. "Pleased to meet you."

Victoria kissed her father on the cheek. Then Manolito led her to her seat next to John and righted the chair for her.

"Please, sit down," Victoria told the still standing men.

"Be nice to her," Manolito said in John's direction. "She's the old lion's daughter - and my old maid sister."

John looked at him with a frown. Manolito smiled and sat down beside Buck.

When the dishes were served, Victoria turned to John. "Mr. Cannon, my brother tells me it is your horse he gave me as a gift." She looked at Manolito who could not resist a smile. "He is fond of practical jokes. I will be very happy to retun this fine horse to you."

"Ma'am, I'm sure he's in good hands. I'd consider it an honour for you to keep him," Big John replied.

"You're very gallant, señor. I will be very proud to keep him," Victoria answered him, slightly surprised.

Manolito clung to his wine glass. He drank to prevent himself from laughing out loud. The look his father threw him helped him immensely to regain his composure.

"What brought you to this country, señor?" Victoria addressed John again.

"Oh, let's say a dream." Big John smiled uncertainly and helped himself to a slice of beef from the selection the servant was offering him.

"What kind of a dream?" Victoria asked curiously.

"Oh, I think we can start all over in this new land. We can build a great state where the white man and the Indian can live in peace."

"Señor Cannon," Manolito interjected seriously, "you really think this is possible with the Apache?"

"They're men, aren't they?" John replied evenly.

"Maybe so. But most people think we should exterminate them," Mano countered.

"We may have to, or they may exterminate us. Unless we deal with them as men, not as savages." John spat the last word in disgust.

Don Sebastian perked up. "You do not consider them savages, señor?"

John turned to him. "No. They are a people fighting for their homeland, just like any other people in this world."

Victoria looked at him with growing admiration, waving her fan. The gringos were not exactly known for their philanthropy.

John suddenly noticed that everybody had fallen silent. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to talk so much," he apologised.

"Oh, no, no," Don Sebastian reassured him. "I- I find you a very interesting man," he admitted hesitantly. Don Sebastian's mother had been a member of the Apache nation herself, but the Montoyas preferred to keep quiet about that branch of their family tree. "You know, I may even learn to like you. I will let you know my decision tomorrow." Don Sebastian turned away to take an appetizer from the platter himself, thus making it clear that the conversation was over.

Big John looked to Buck. His brother seemed to be interested merely in the cuisine. He did not give the slightest, verbal or non-verbal, indication that he had actually followed the conversation.

The rest of the dinner was eaten in silence. John was not made for small talk. The topic of his visit had been discussed. There was nothing more to say. Conversations were usually carried by his brother. But Buck kept his mouth shut this evening, except when taking in food, preferring to watch the other diners. Don Sebastian seemed to follow the same strategy. He ate his supper in silence, looking happily around. Victoria seemed to be a little excited. She returned the gaze of her father with a timid smile before she refocused on her plate. Manolito gave his father a curt nod. The rest of the time he pecked listlessly at his food. He seemed to sigh in relief when the dinner was finally over. Hardly waiting until the last plate had been cleared away, he virtually jumped up from his seat to escort his sister out of the room. Don Sebastian rang for a servant who would lead the Cannon brothers back to their room. He wished his guests a good night and retired.

Buck stared at the ceiling for an hour before he realised that he would find no sleep this way. He dressed again and left the house to stretch his legs a little. A soft breeze gradually eased the heat of the day and made the evening enjoyable. He strolled around a bit, inspecting the premises. The backyard of the hacienda held a beautiful garden. Buck stepped through the squeaky gate, wandering down the winding path to a fountain. A few benches stood in a big circle around it. The full moon reflected in the water. Everything was quiet and peaceful. Very romantic, Buck grinned to himself. He sat down on the edge of the fountain, absently dipping his hands in the cool water. After a while he noticed that someone was sitting on one of the benches. At second glance he recognised Manolito, who was playing with a blade of grass, watching the stars. The Mexican no longer wore his red velvet suit, but a dark brown suede jacket and matching trousers. Buck almost had not noticed him. Only the gold shirt that peeked out from under the jacket and the metal belt buckle stood out from the background. Buck hesitated. Should he stay and keep the other company or should he leave so as not to disturb him? Manolito, who had meanwhile noticed Buck, looked silently over to him. He seemed sad, Buck thought and decided that a little company would not hurt. He sat down on the bench beside Manolito and looked up at the stars as well.

"What are you thinking about?" Buck enquired finally.

"My future," came the quiet reply.

"What are you gonna do?"

Manolito sighed resignedly. "I have no idea."

"Living as a bandit has lost its appeal?" Buck asked with a smile.

"It does, sometimes. Besides, we- did not exactly part as friends."

"Why?"

"Well, you know, the sources of income of even the most successful bands dry up from time to time. As the son of a rich father I better hightail it before they are desperate enough to try for ransom money."

"And riding the land alone is just as unhealthy at the moment," Buck remarked thoughtfully.

Manolito nodded. "But I can't stay here, either."

Buck turned to his new friend. "It's clearly visible that you aren't happy here, amigo. But you could look for a job elsewhere."

"No, thanks. I don't like to work," the Mexican laughed. "I already told your brother."

"You could buy your own ranch and get someone in," Buck suggested. "Then you'd be all set. I'm sure your father would lend you some money. He might even gift you with a ranch."

Manolito vehemently shook his head. "This is exactly why I left. I don't want any possessions. I don't want a ranch, either. I want to be free."

Buck racked his brain what else he could offer the Mexican, but came up blank. "What have you done before?" he finally asked.

Manolito shrugged. "Enjoyed my freedom. As a child I was free to do whatever I wanted. But when I came of age, my father put his foot down and insisted that I start taking over responsibility on his ranch. He did not stop badgering me, so I left. At first I rode with bandidos and comancheros, later I travelled alone. I can always work for a rancher when I'm broke. You know how it is, they always look for vaqueros, especially for the cattle round-up and the cattle drive. Here today, there tomorrow. I love this kind of life," Mano smiled, then added in a more serious tone, "It is not that I cannot lead. It is just that I prefer not to exert authority. I do not want to be tied down to a piece of land, however big, with only subordinates around. I want to travel whenever I feel like it. I tried settling down from time to time. It always grew dull within a month. I want to enjoy the world as long as I can. Life is far too short to do otherwise." Mano looked earnestly at Buck. "Can you understand that?" he asked softly.

Buck nodded. "Yes, better than you think. But riding the land with the Apache on the warpath is no fun, as you already noticed."

Mano nodded sadly.

"You know, it's just a matter of how you look at it," Buck said slowly. "Why don't you go to friends? Ask them if you can help them instead of working for them. You take no wages, only what they can spare. But let me tell you, that's usually no less than what the ranch hands get as payment. And when you need some variety, you just up and leave. Once you've let off enough steam, you come back, and no one is going to hold it against you."

Manolito lowered his eyes. "Such friends are not so easy to find. … Not among the Montoyas, that's for sure. And the others-" He broke off in an almost-whisper and shrugged his shoulders.

"The idea would be to your liking, I take it?" Buck asked. When Manolito nodded, he put a hand on the Mexican's shoulder. Mano looked up questioningly. Buck grinned at him. "Then come with me to the High Chaparral, amigo."

Manolito smiled at the notion. He liked Buck, and it seemed the sentiment was returned. It would be nice to have a real friend, not just those half-friends he had met so far who always tried to get the better of him as soon as an opportunity presented itself. Then he remembered why Buck and John Cannon had come to Rancho Montoya. He shook his head, looking suddenly crestfallen. "Your brother won't take me in."

"Of course he will if I ask him," Buck told him firmly.

Manolito lowered his eyes again. "That's what you say today. Once your brother has spoken with my father and knows the price for the alliance, I am pretty sure he will not want me around. So far, Don Sebastian Montoya has always managed to get what he wanted and in the process made his opponents livid with rage. He seems to think it is fun."

Buck smiled again. "First, we're not enemies but business partners-"

"That's the same", the Mexican interrupted him with a shrug.

"-and second, let your father and my brother argue with each other. We don't have to do so as well."

Manolito looked at him blankly. "Sometimes we do."

Buck pulled his hand back. "You're taking your father's side?"

Mano swallowed, staring straight ahead towards the fountain. "Only because I think he is right," he said tightly.

"What if I would side with you in this matter?" Buck asked softly.

"Why would you do that?" Manolito sounded surprised and a little suspicious.

"I think I know what the price will be," Buck said slowly. "I have a lot of reasons to accept that price. And not a single one of them has anything to do with you."

"You would turn against your own brother?"

"Only because I think you're right."

Manolito shook his head again. "All the more reason for him to turn me away."

"John is fair," Buck objected, "or I wouldn't live with him any more. He may be angry with your father. But he won't take it out on you."

Manolito looked up doubtfully. He did not want to have this particular hope dashed. Buck clasped him lightly on the arm. "Let's call it a day and see what tomorrow'll bring."

XXX

The next morning, Big John sat motionless in Don Sebastian's study.

"I have thought over your proposal very carefully, señor." Don Sebastian sat down in his chair. "An alliance between us is a very practical thing, and I am a practical man. It would be good for both of us. However, I have certain reservations."

"Like, ah, how do we trust each other, eh?" John guessed.

"Exactly. I think I have found a solution to that problem. I understand, señor, that your wife was killed by the Apaches. Is that true?"

"Yes," John said softly. "What's that got to do with this?"

"That you are a man without a woman. I have a daughter without a husband, señor. I am proposing a marriage between you and my daughter Victoria."

John lowered his eyes. "That's impossible," he stated.

"Not impossible, señor. It is practical. Victoria has refused every suitor I have found for her. She is independent, that one. She has a mind like a wild horse. She is worse than her brother. - No, that could not be possible," Don Sebastian corrected himself. "But she is already past the age where girls in our country should be married." He held out his hands towards John. "I want grandchildren, señor. Is it not natural?"

John stubbornly shook his head. "It's out of the question."

"Why?" Don Sebastian asked, suddenly sounding offended. "You do not think that she is beautiful?"

"I don't want a wife."

"But you want the alliance. Your great rancho and mine, yes?"

"They warned me about you," John murmured, staring straight ahead.

Don Sebastian leaned back in his chair. "It was good advice, señor. You do see the advantage of what I speak, do you not?"

"What about your daughter?"

"What about her?" Don Sebastian asked blankly.

"In my country it's customary for the woman to give consent," John told him.

The Don smiled. "With us it is mercifully different." He became serious. "It is not her consent that I am concerned with, señor, it is yours. Do you accept the conditions for our alliance?"

Big John looked at him incredulously. "Do I have a choice?"

"No," Don Sebastian replied with a happy smile. The rancher took a deep breath. Don Sebastian revelled in his success. After a moment he coughed. "My son will accompany Victoria, of course. That's tradition."

Big John looked at him, aghast. "No. Never. Completely out of the question."

"Señor, do you mean to insult me?" Don Sebastian blustered.

"Do you mean to ruin me?" Big John countered angrily. "I-"

"Ruin you?" Don Sebastian screeched. "You should be happy to get such a competent-"

Big John nodded vigorously. "What the father did not accomplish, the son surely will, right?" He leaned on Don Sebastian's desk, glowering at the man. "A lady like Victoria will enjoy the niceties of life, that much I understand and support. But to saddle me with your son who has exactly the same inclination, that is going too far!"

"My son will work just like any other ranch hand," Don Sebastian hastened to put in. "That is tradition."

John smiled cynically. "You guarantee me that? You will give me your word of honour on that?"

"Well- You see-" The lord of the house trailed off.

"I will either take your wayward son with me or your daughter, but not both," Big John said adamantly. "If you do not trust me to treat Victoria with the courtesy she deserves, I suggest we forget this marriage business along with the alliance. Then my ranch will be overrun first - and yours a bit later." He got up and walked to the door. Doorknob in hand, he looked back to the desk one last time.

This was no bluff, the gringo was serious, Don Sebastian realised. If he did not meet him halfway in this matter, he could write their alliance off. And as Señor Cannon had stated correctly, he could not afford that. He might survive the Apache attacks, but that was by no means certain. "All right, I agree," Don Sebastian roared, throwing his arms up in disgust.

John did not move from the spot. "Agree with what?"

Don Sebastian grimaced. "That you marry Victoria and Mano will not accompany his sister to the High Chaparral," he snapped. It seemed he would have to find another way to straighten his son out before someone shot him.

"Very well," his prospective son-in-law said impassively and measuredly retuned to the desk. "We are going to write this down."

"All right," Don Sebastian replied more calmly, but still feeling annoyed. "We will re-write the contract, if that makes you happy."

"What? You have the contract written out already? Without consulting with me first?" Big John asked, another mighty scowl on his face.

Another faux pas. The gringo would not be so offended by such a trivial thing as to reject the marriage for good this time, Don Sebastian hoped. "Let's say it is not the first time that I find myself in this situation," he replied as sincerely as he could.

"Let me see this contract," Big John said after an eternity. Don Sebastian secretly heaved a sigh of relief. He handed over the contract, watching John's face while the rancher read.

"It meets my expectations - mostly," Big John finally said. "But you will have to make a few changes before I'm going to sign it." He marked the paragraphs, and they began to haggle over the wording. When they eventually were both happy with it, they signed the contract. Don Sebastian wrote out a copy, which they also signed, then handed the document to his de facto son-in-law. Big John took it with a satisfied grin. Then he suddenly remembered what he had got himself into, and his expression darkened again.

XXX

Big John stormed into the guest room he shared with Buck. His brother was waiting for him. "Well, what did the old lion roar?" he asked immediately.

"It was me who did the roaring - when he sank his teeth into my flesh," John answered bitterly, waving the contract. "He finally found a fool to whom he can push off his daughter."

"What does that mean exactly?" Buck smilingly wanted to know.

"I thought it was plain enough. On Sunday he is marrying her off - to me."

"And today is Thursday." Buck whistled through his teeth. "Boy, that's swift. Is he afraid she'll get wrinkles if he waits any longer?"

"Wouldn't be the worst," John grumbled.

"Why are you so upset? Not that I'd want to trade you." Buck held up his hands. "Getting married isn't for me, you know that. But I think you made an excellent deal."

"So, you think?" Big John's voice got louder. "My wife is six feet under for less than a week, and I've got a new one! A little respect wouldn't have gone amiss."

"Who are you so angry with?" Buck asked him quietly. "Your future father-in-law, or yourself?"

His brother winced. "What do you mean?"

"You like her. It was plain to see at dinner last night." Buck raised a hand when John tried to interrupt him. "And she likes you, too. I mean - let me finish," he asked when John opened his mouth again. "I mean, you don't have to jump into bed with her just because you married her. Take your time, get to know her. Become friends with her. Besides, sometimes it's a blessing to have a woman in the house. 'Cause when you, dear brother, start cooking, the ranch hands are gonna run away faster than you can say beefsteak."

"I'd sort of hoped that at least one of the hands would know how to cook," John said uncertainly.

Buck looked at him doubtfully, then changed the subject. "Do you have a suit for the wedding?"

What kind of question was that? He had just heard about this marriage. He could not just pull a suit out of his hat. He did not even have a hat, Big John thought morosely. He had not come here to get married. He had only wanted to form an alliance with Don Sebastian to help each other against bandits and Apaches. Well, he had succeeded in that, but the price… Big John sighed, shaking his head. "A tailor is going to come by this afternoon," he said sourly. "At lunch we'll be instructed about the procedure. I'd prefer to leave right after the wedding ceremony, but apparently they're gonna have a little fiesta in the evening. We shall leave on Monday."

"Very generous," Buck commented. "Why don't we take Mano with us as well? When you marry Victoria, he becomes our brother-in-law. I mean, he will be part of the family, and we should take care of him."

Big John decisively shook his head. "Out of the question. Victoria is quite enough. I don't need her brother living off me, too."

"I didn't mean to suggest that," Buck tried to appease his brother. "It's just that Mano currently has nowhere to stay."

"He told me very clearly that he doesn't like to work," John cut him off. "There's no place for a lazy hand on my ranch, either." He had just explained this to Don Sebastian. And Buck would have to understand that as well, one way or another. There would be no arguing in this matter.

"If he's among friends, he'll keep up with them, I'm sure of it. I thought you could give him the same status that I have."

Big John gaped at his brother. "You must like him a lot," he finally managed to get out.

Buck nodded. "We get along really well, and I want him near. If you don't take him in, he'll ride the land again. And you know he'll be risking life and limb at the moment, especially if he rides all alone. - I guess I'll just have to ride with him to take care of him."

John made a grim face. "That sounds like blackmail."

Buck looked back just as fiercely. "I didn't ask that you let him live off you forever if he really is no good. Put him on probation - let's say for three months, initially. When you're satisfied with him, put him on eternal probation. That's all I ask."

Big John turned towards the window to think the proposal through in peace. Buck himself did not believe that Manolito would work voluntarily or would ever obey orders. He had offered him friendship instead. For three months John would be able to support a loafer. The rancher grinned to himself. He could deduct his losses from Buck's salary, as an object lesson, so to speak. On the other hand, maybe Buck's friendship had the desired effect, and the young Montoya would help them. He needed every man he could get. It was at least worth a try. Besides, Big John did not want to lose his brother. But this thought naturally was only secondary. The ranch he wanted to build took precedence. But it was very fortunate that these two wishes could be reconciled. "All right," he finally acquiesced.

"Great," Buck smiled and hurried to the door. "I'll tell Don Sebastian. Be right back."

John watched him go in astonishment.

XXX

"Señor Buck Cannon", the Don greeted his guest. "What is so important that it could not wait until lunch?"

"I just wanted to inform you that Mano will accompany us to the High Chaparral on Monday - and he'll stay with us," Buck told him coolly.

Don Sebastian's eyes lit up. "Oh, what a wonderful idea."

"Exactly," Buck nodded. His voice became sharper. "And I advise that you don't even hint at this idea of mine to anybody until I talked to your son. I don't want Mano to think you saddled him up with us as a wedding present. He might get it into his head to reject my offer to live with us and prefer to ride the land instead. You know yourself that this isn't exactly safe at the moment. Besides, someone would have to ride with him so that he would at least stand a chance. But I sincerely doubt that in that case my brother would be willing to muster any kind of understanding for the rest of the Montoya family." Buck snapped his mouth shut before he said something he would regret later on, and looked at Don Sebastian expectantly.

"As I said, an excellent idea. It will be appreciated in silence," the Don agreed thoughtfully.

Buck took a deep breath. "Thank you. I'll be seeing you at lunch," he said quietly and left the study.

Don Sebastian watched him go with a deep frown. Not even the older Cannon brother had shown any concern for Manolito's welfare. John Cannon was completely absorbed in building his ranch. When they had settled the marriage terms he had proved without a doubt that he did not have a lot of patience with someone like Manolito. The younger Cannon brother, however, Don Sebastian had rather thought of as a shallow daredevil - and had probably been completely off the mark with that. Maybe Mano had at last found in Buck Cannon the friend he so longed for. And maybe Manolito would finally be ready to settle down and would assume leadership of Rancho Montoya in a few years' time. Don Sebastian decided to keep an eye on his son. In time, it might be possible to shake things up a little and give them the desired turn.

XXX

At lunchtime Buck intercepted Manolito at the door to the dining room. "Mano, a word," he said. The Mexican stopped and looked expectantly at him.

"I talked to my brother," Buck began slowly. "He agrees. If you like, you're welcome on the High Chaparral. Not as a ranch hand, but as a friend of the family."

Stunned, Manolito looked at his brother-in-law-to-be. "Is that true?" he got out at last. "How did you manage that?"

His friend grinned at him. "I have my ways to get what I want. Well, what do you say? You're coming with us?"

Mano nodded with a smile and solemnly shook Buck's hand.

"Good. Let's grab something to eat. I'm mighty hungry." Buck took Mano by the arm and walked him to the table. They came just in time. The appetizers were about to be served.

Victoria noticed her brother's completely perplexed expression. She looked questioningly at the others. "What's going on? Did I miss something?" she asked after a while.

"Your brother has agreed to accompany us to the High Chaparral," Buck told her between bites with a satisfied smile.

"But a relative always accompanies the bride," Victoria said in surprise.

"Not where we come from," John replied.

"As part of your dowry he would be merely a slave or a servant. We have given him a different status." Buck grinned at her cheerfully.

"Oh." Feeling at a loss, Victoria looked at the men at the table. None of them felt obliged, however, to let her in on the secret. She had no more opportunity to enquire further. The main course was being served, and everyone tackled his plate. Mano, too, ate with gusto, now that his future did not look so bleak any more.

"Since we're talking about the dowry," Don Sebastian began after a while. "The ceremony will be held in the church at ten o'clock on Sunday morning."

"That soon?" Victoria asked timidly. "But, Papa-"

"My dear child." Don Sebastian agitatedly turned to his daughter. "I have become quite an expert at organising your wedding - and then calling it off again because you did not like the nose of the suitor, or whatnot. But I am telling you, this time you are getting married, and that is final, punto y se acabo!" Don Sebastian slammed his flat hand on the table so hard that the glasses rattled.

Victoria lowered her eyes and pushed her plate aside. She suddenly was not hungry any more. It happened all a little too fast for her. Usually the prospective couple had some time to get acquainted before they agreed on the marriage.

The Don took a deep breath. "Señor Cannon," he added in a calmer tone, "we Mexicans hold tradition in high esteem, but I am of course aware that I cannot keep you away from your ranch for too long in such a difficult situation. We will just have to make do as best we can." He broke off when the servants came in with the dessert.

Buck tried the sponge cake. A smile slowly spread over his face. His eyes flashed. "Mano, what do Mexicans need for a wedding ceremony?" he asked with his mouth full.

"First of all, a bride who really wants to get married," Manolito replied with a laugh. "Then, of course, the wedding rings."

"She'll use her mother's ring," Don Sebastian interjected. "And Señor Cannon gets mine."

"A wedding dress," Manolito said.

"That of her mother. The tailor has fitted it years ago."

Victoria rolled her eyes. How romantic and tactful. Men.

"Thirteen gold coins," Mano continued his list.

"Are part of her dowry," Don Sebastian told him.

"I heard about the coins," John put in. "But I thought they were given to the bride by the groom as proof that he can support her."

"Well, that much gold we really don't have. But maybe you could take thirteen steers, Big John," Buck laughed.

"Agreed," Don Sebastian nodded at once enthusiastically. "The coins will stand for thirteen head of cattle from the High Chaparral which will belong to Victoria."

Big John threw Buck an angry glance. If he had seemed too poor to provide for a family, Don Sebastian might have been dissuaded from his obsession with this marriage. Buck, however, ignored his brother, devoting himself to his dessert. But Manolito saw the furtive smile on Buck's face. The younger Cannon brother somehow seemed to find the situation funny. Anyway, he seemed to approve of the marriage.

"Then there's the lasso," Mano spoke up again. "The wrists of the couple are tied together as a symbol of eternal fidelity." He threw his sister a meaningful look. Victoria swallowed and nodded bravely.

"And not to forget the padrinos," Don Sebastian added.

Manolito grimaced. In the whole of Mexico they would not find anyone who would be willing to play godfather to a gringo. "Who did you have in mind?" he asked his father uncertainly.

"Well, I thought, since Señor Buck Cannon was so worried about your well-being, that he may be willing to look after Victoria as well, should it be necessary."

Buck looked up in astonishment. "Who? Me?" he asked incredulously. "You want me as her godfather?"

He looked at the others in turn. The Montoyas nodded unanimously. Big John, unsure of what to think of the proposal, strove for a neutral expression. Buck completely forgot that he was not wearing a hat in the house. He reached for the brim to lift his hat, made a confused face when he encountered nothing but air, and dropped his arm again in embarrassment. Mano smiled. The others could not quite hide their amusement, either. Buck cleared his throat. "Will be a pleasure, ma'am," he told Victoria. "And who shall be Big John's godfather?" he wanted to know.

"Well, I thought of Manolito," Don Sebastian replied.

"Absolutely not. Out of the question," Buck and Mano answered simultaneously.

John, Victoria and her papa looked at the two in astonishment. Buck and Mano looked at each other in astonishment.

Buck's face darkened. "Why are you so dead set against it?" he asked his prospective brother-in-law. To Manolito's ears Buck's tone sounded a little offended.

"Because I cannot offer any financial or moral support," Manolito said firmly. "As a padrino I'm hopelessly swamped. Why are you so dead set against it?" he asked Buck, also sounding a little offended.

"You know what we agreed upon." Buck turned to the entire lunch party. "As a padrino Mano is in over his head. Under the circumstances you can't expect him to take on such a job."

Mano nodded. When he left the High Chaparral to ride the land, Señor Cannon could not count on his help.

Big John nodded, too. If the young Montoya proved to be a lazy wastrel and John chased him off the ranch, he could not count on Manolito's help.

"But then we do not have a godfather for the groom, and that is against all tradition," Don Sebastian exclaimed in dismay.

"Yes, we do," Buck said quietly, turning to the head of the table with a serious expression on his face. "If you allow me, Don Sebastian, I would like to suggest someone else. I'm pretty sure that the man will accept. After all, to be named as padrino is a great honour. In any case, it would be extremely bad form if he refused."

Don Sebastian nodded. "Please. Who do you have in mind?"

Buck grinned. "You yourself, Señor Montoya."

Manolito laughed. He would stay on the High Chaparral for a while. He could learn a lot from his new friend. Marvelous, how easily Buck had managed the Lion of Sonora. Buck leaned back in his chair, broadly grinning at his brother. For the first time since he had learned about the marriage, Big John smiled.

The next morning when the tailor fitted the suit, Big John, however, was in a bad mood again. He felt as if he betrayed Annalee - his late wife, the love of his life - by this marriage. He complained about everything. The pants were too tight, the jacket was the wrong colour, and the shirt was just plain awful. He looked disparagingly at the double rows of sequins which ran from the collar to the hem beside the buttons. "I look like a darn Christmas tree with all the tinsel they sewed on," he grumbled.

Buck laughed. "You are the groom. You're supposed to look good on your wedding day."

"Thanks, I already had one, and it was much better," John retorted sullenly.

"Maybe so," his brother remarked. "But at least try to hide it from Victoria. 'Cause she didn't have one yet and is unlikely to get another one any time soon."

"Yes, you're right," Big John nodded soberly.

Buck had just put a consoling hand on his brother's shoulder when Mano came in.

"What's up? Your sister decided to call it off?" Buck joked when he saw his friend's long face.

"No." Mano shook his head. "She still wants to get married, as far as I know. But I cannot go with you to the church. If the rurales catch me, I'm finished."

Buck looked at Manolito worriedly. "I completely forgot about these uniformed bandits," he murmured. "What do you think, Mano, how many will we have to deal with?"

Manolito shrugged. "There are no more than ten stationed in the village here. But if they get wind of the wedding, they may ride to Nogales to bring in reinforcements. There are about thirty stationed there because of the border."

"Would they kidnap your sister to get at you?" Buck wanted to know.

"I have no idea how they operate," Manolito said. "You do not hear much about the people who have been caught by the rurales."

"Why not?" Big John asked.

"Because most of them are dead," Mano replied with a shrug. "And the others have become rurales themselves."

Buck and John exchanged a serious look. "I'd say you better come with us, but let's ask your father," Buck said at last.

They found Don Sebastian in the study and told him of the complication. "If we knew how many we'd be up against," Big John mused, "we could make a plan."

The Don shook his head thoughtfully. "I would say, ten at best, fifty at worst."

Buck nodded. "Mano said so as well."

Don Sebastian sighed. "Given the fact that my son has fallen out with the law," he threw Manolito a disapproving glance, "the marriage will have to be-"

"Postponed?" Big John asked hopefully.

"-moved," the Don told him firmly. "To the chapel of Rancho Montoya. It is admittedly on very short notice, but still feasible." He stood to leave the room.

"Don Sebastian, you surely have a lot of employees," Buck spoke up.

The Don paused. "Of course."

"Is there someone with Mano's stature?" Buck wanted to know.

Don Sebastian eyed him cautiously. "Why do you ask, Señor Cannon? Do you have something specific in mind?"

Buck explained his idea.

XXX

Don Sebastian entered his daughter's dressing room. "Victoria, you look wonderful," he said with a somewhat wistful smile. Her mother had worn this dress when he had married her. It was a diamond-studded, waist-hugging white dress with lots of lace and an embroidered mantilla veil. Don Sebastian sighed. He still had not come to terms with the fact that his wife had died. And now he would have to let Victoria go, too. That was the way of the world. He took the necklace from the table. Victoria lifted her veil, and Don Sebastian fastened it on his daughter's neck. Then he offered her his arm and led her from the room.

Victoria left wordlessly but with a firm step. But on the stairs her courage left her, and she hesitated. John did not want to marry her. He would never forget his dead wife. John would only see her as a troublemaker. Someone he had been forced to marry. Someone who took the place of his first wife. Then she pulled herself together. She had decided to marry John Cannon because of his dream. It would not be easy, but she would find a place in his heart eventually, she was sure of it.

Excitement rose in her. Now there was no turning back. Resolutely she went down the stairs, along the hallway and finally entered the chapel. She hesitated again. Taking a deep breath, she walked down the aisle to the altar where her groom was waiting for her.

John surprised her. During the whole ceremony he behaved towards her like a perfect gentleman. Victoria saw the conflicting emotions on his face. His forehead wrinkled several times, but he always pulled himself together as soon as he noticed it. He seemed to be relieved when the priest came to an end. "Sí, accepto" - yes, I will - he said firmly. Victoria repeated the oath, her voice just as firm. John gave his bride an awfully decent kiss on the cheek. Victoria smiled. She had at least felt no rejection in the kiss. That was more than she had hoped for. She kissed John on the cheek as well. Their wrists were being entwined with the lasso, then they went to the door of the chapel. Mano opened it. John and Victoria led the wedding parade over the courtyard. Then the fiesta began.

The staff celebrated for two. Victoria was not in a very cheerful mood, but she bravely pulled herself together when the servants said goodbye to her. Don Sebastian did not seem to be entirely happy about her departure, either. When he remembered that his daughter was finally married, he looked pleased as Punch. But when he remembered that she would leave him in the morning to live with John Cannon on his ranch, his expression became surly. Mano and the Cannon brothers, too, seemed to be on tenterhooks. Each of the five was glad when a pretext offered to retire.

Victoria was still a bit sleepy when she stepped out of the house the next morning. It had been the last night in her home, and she had not slept well. At the door she paused, rooted to the spot. She knew her father had a penchant for pomposity, but never in her life would she have believed that he would carry this to such heights. Two festively decorated coaches were standing in the courtyard, each accompanied by twenty liveried riders. The men presented their rifles proudly on her approach. The open carriage and the covered wagon with her dowry seemed shabby in comparison.

Mano opened the door of the first coach and motioned for her to get in. Victoria wondered why two liveried servants were sitting in the coach as well. She turned to Manolito. The question stuck in her throat. She had just caught a glimpse of her brother riding from the ranch. She looked up in confusion. Her brother stood beside her. What was going on? Manolito gave her a timid smile. Victoria paled. Suddenly she understood the pomp and the caution. She flung her arms around her brother's neck. "The rurales," she whispered. "If they catch you-"

Mano hugged her, then held her at arm's length, smiling at her. "Don't worry. It will be all right."

Victoria nodded bravely. Her papa patted her hand reassuringly. "Do not worry," he murmured as well. "We will be careful. Nothing will happen."

Victoria had wished to delay the moment of departure from her father as long as possible, but now she could hardly wait to get on the road, wanting to leave Mexico as soon as possible. Then it hit her. John Cannon's ranch was in the United States. There, the rurales could not harm her brother. Victoria began to smile. If all went well, it would be a beautiful day, after all.

Mano helped his sister and his father into the coach. As soon as he had closed the door, the coachman spurred the horses on. Manolito joined Buck and John in the second coach, which followed Victoria's hot on the heels. It seemed to be almost stuck at its rear. It was only a couple of miles to Nogales, and they were covered quickly in this lively pace. Just across the border, the coaches stopped. After a grand turn Victoria's coach halted at a right angle to Mano's. Buck got out first and opened the door. Manolito ducked when he got out. He had pulled his sombrero down low, shadowing his face.

Buck, his right hand on his revolver, looked silently up at the coachman. The man gave him a thumbs-up and slowly drove off. After Don Sebastian had said goodbye to his children, Victoria joined John on the wagon seat of the carriage. Buck and Mano mounted the accompanying horses.

"Don Sebastian," Buck said slyly, leaning down from his horse. "Our escort could take a break in Nogales at Chico's catina. If these uniformed bandits should try to ignore the border, that would be a reason to adhere to the contract."

Don Sebastian laughed. "Señor Cannon, I assure you that I will take every measure to comply with the contract." He got into the second coach and drove back.

XXX

On the way home Buck rode with Mano in front, scouting the area. A vaquero from Rancho Montoya drove the wagon with Victoria's dowry. Another two men in plain, functional clothing had been deployed as an escort. It did not make anyone feel safer, however. The Apaches watched the travelling party, but, to everybody's relief, did not attack.

Shortly before they reached the ranch, Buck turned to Mano. "I'm gonna ride ahead. When John gets there, we're gonna have one mighty upheaval on our hands, I can tell you."

"What do you mean?" Manolito asked uncertainly.

Buck suddenly looked grim. "My brother forgot to mention that he has a son who loved his mother dearly. Blue won't easily accept that his father has married again. Maybe I can prepare him for the news and avoid the biggest trouble." He spurred his horse on and galloped towards the High Chaparral. The first thing he noticed was the new sign over the front gate. "High Chaparral" had been carved into the wood. Blue must have made it during their absence, Buck thought with a touch of owner's pride.

"Hey, Buck." Blue ran from the house as soon as he saw him and hugged his favourite uncle enthusiastically.

"Blue Boy, I've missed you," Buck told him.

"I wish I was with you," his nephew exclaimed.

"So do I. We had a fine time, Blue Boy." Buck became serious. "There's something I got to tell you." He looked towards the front gate and sighed. He had not been fast enough. The others were already coming in. "Well, ah- later," he muttered, nervously runing a hand through his hair.

"Hello, Pa," Blue greeted his father affectionately when the coach stopped in front of the ranch house.

"Blue," John nodded to him. He turned to the woman at his side. "Victoria, this is my son Blue."

Blue lifted his hat and smiled at her. "Howdy, ma'am."

"This is my wife Victoria," Big John stiffly told his son.

"I'm happy to meet you, Blue," Victoria replied quietly.

Blue's smile froze on his lips. Stunned, he stared at the new Mrs. Cannon for a long moment, then slowly turned around and walked away.

"Blue?" John asked softly but did not stop him.

After a moment of embarrassed silence, Big John pulled himself together. He stepped down from the coach, offered Victoria his hand and led her into the house.

Buck turned to Manolito with a sigh. "Well, welcome to our happy home."

They looked at each other for a moment, then Buck directed the vaqueros with the dowry to the barn. "Bring the wagon in here and look for a place to sleep. We've done enough for today. Señora Cannon will show you tomorrow where her belongings shall go. Come on, Mano, I'll show you to your room."

Buck put a hand on Manolito's shoulder and led him to the upper floor. "Sorry, we couldn't repair all the damage in the house at once. We didn't have the time yet and have been focusing only on the essentials. And since we didn't know that we would come back with a brother-in-law-"

"Spit it out already," Mano said impatiently.

Buck opened a door instead and let his brother-in-law enter. Mano looked around. There was a wardrobe, a nightstand, a table with two chairs occupying the corners of the room. Everything seemed in order.

"Well, the thing is, you have a room but no bed," Buck said from the door.

"There is one," Mano answered and sat down on the mattress.

"Don't," Buck shouted a second too late.

The wooden frame gave way under his weight, and Manolito collapsed with the bed. His pride having taken a sting, he looked sullenly up at his brother-in-law.

Buck tried to hide his grin. He came over and pulled Mano to his feet. "I told you. We had to patch everything together when we arrived here." Mano kept silent, looking everywhere but at his brother-in-law.

"You could bunk with me," Buck offered. "I have a double bed. It's sturdy enough for both of us, honestly. Come on, I'll show you." He led his friend into the next room.

Mano looked around. Buck's room was of the same size as the one they had assigned him. But Buck's bed had a metal frame. That would not crash so easily. He nodded curtly, and Buck smiled in relief. He did not want Mano to feel like a fifth wheel. There was trouble brewing, Buck was sure of it, and he wanted to keep an eye on the Montoya siblings, as was proper for a padrino.

XXX

Trouble brewed faster than Buck had thought possible. At dinner, Blue's chair was suspiciously empty. The rancher frowned, throwing the chair a grim look. All throughout the meal the gloom did not lift. Manolito looked from his sister to Buck and then to Big John. He cleared his throat.

"I- looked over your fortifications this afternoon," Mano said hesitantly, clearing his throat again.

The rancher lifted his head, the faraway look slow to leave his face.

"I am worried by the wall on the south. It is not high enough," Mano continued eventually.

Buck nodded. "I been thinking about that, too, John. We ought to build it up. A good horse could jump it."

"I'll look at it in the morning," John answered. His gaze fell on his son's chair again. "Where's Blue?" he demanded.

Buck glanced apologetically at Victoria, then quickly looked away. "He took his clothes and moved into the bunkhouse," he mumbled.

The rancher pushed his chair back and rose. "It was an excellent supper, Mrs. Cannon. You'll excuse me."

The three reamining at the table continued to eat in silence. When the front door closed, Mano heaved a sigh. "I have heard that same tone in my father's voice. My sympathies are with the young gentleman."

"I'm afraid he'll need more than sympathy," Buck replied worriedly.

Victoria frowned. "I do not think my husband is a cruel man, señor."

Buck shook his head. "No, he ain't, ma'am. But it's never easy between a father and a son."

The Montoya siblings gloomily nodded in unison.

Big John came to Blue in the bunkhouse. The boy was lying on a bed, staring morosely at the ceiling. The ranch hands were sitting at the table, playing cards and mostly letting him be. "Evening," the men greeted their boss, then left Blue and Big John alone.

John sat down on the bed beside his son. "I want to talk to you."

"About what?" Blue asked curtly.

"About something called manhood," John remarked sharply.

Blue rose from the bed. "There ain't nothing you could tell me."

"Maybe not," his father agreed with him. "Maybe you're right. If I haven't instilled that in you by this time, I never will."

"You had your chance. Twenty years of it," Blue yelled. "But all you did was keep me down."

"If you had stopped whining, maybe you could have picked yourself up," John countered. "That's what I was waiting to see."

Blue pointed downwards. "Well, you can see it now. Here I am, Big John Cannon. Up on my own feet. My own two feet. And I ain't ever gonna lean on you again," he told his father angrily.

John stood up, too. "You'll never get the chance to, boy." He went to the door, hesitated a moment, then turned around and came back a few steps. "As long as you stay on this ranch, you will treat my wife with civility, you understand that, Blue?"

"As long as I stay here, that's all she'll be - your wife," Blue replied hotly. "She'll never mean anything more to me. And another thing. My name is Blly, not Blue. I ain't your hound dog any more." Blue turned around and walked to the furthest corner of the room.

"Come here. Come here!" Big John shouted.

Blue obeyed, as always. "What?" he asked belligerently.

"There is nothing holding you here. Nothing. You are free to go. Anytime." Big John left the bunkhouse without a backward glance.

Blue's heart was suddenly in his pants. He watched his father go, then sat down on the nearest bed and cried into the pillow. After some time he pulled himself together and went to saddle his horse. Just as he was about to ride from the ranch, he spotted the new Mrs. Cannon kneeling in front of his mother's grave in fervent prayer. Blue viciously kicked his horse onwards and rode up behind her. Victoria turned around. Blue looked down at her, noticing the small batch of wild flowers on the grave.

"What are you doing here?" Blue hissed, his fist closing around the locket with his mother's picture that was hanging around his neck. It was the only thing he had wanted to take with him, the only reminder he wanted to keep.

The new Mrs. Cannon looked at him openly, sadness and understanding in her eyes that Blue did not want to see.

"I came to pray for her," Victoria answered.

"She doesn't need your prayers," Blue retorted angrily. And she doesn't need your flowers, either, he thought but held his tongue, afraid that if he spoke the words his voice would break. He nudged his horse onwards again and rode from the ranch without a backward glance.

XXX

Victoria entered the bedroom. Her husband was sitting in the armchair, his elbow propped up on the armrest, his chin supported by his hand. "I thought you would be asleep, my husband," she said in surprise.

John looked at her calmly. "I have a great many things on my mind."

Victoria came to stand in front of her husband, her back turned to him. "Would you please unfasten, por favor?" she asked. She could not open the blouse by herself and had not wanted to take a maid with her.

"Yes, a pleasure." John unbuttoned the garment.

"Are you worried about your son?" Victoria asked quietly. Manolito had told her of John's confrontation with Blue.

"Yes, among other things," John admitted.

Victoria went to the dressing table to brush her hair. She covertly watched her husband in the mirror. "Perhaps I should go back to my father," she offered.

"What makes you say that?" Big John asked in alarm.

"I don't want to come between you and your son."

John came to stand behind her and took her by the shoulders. "You are my wife. You are Mrs. John Cannon," he said sternly.

"I am your wife in name only, a symbol of a political alliance," Victoria countered, turning to him. "Is that alliance more important to you than the love of your son?"

"I admit our marriage was not one born out of love. I'm a hard man. Love doesn't come easy for me. Even the word sticks on my tongue. You are my wife. I honour you as my wife. So will my son," John replied decisively. Victoria did not know how she could argue against that. And she did not want to. She wanted to be Mrs. Cannon as much as John demanded it of her. She could only hope that Blue would see reason and accept her, however grudgingly.

XXX

Three days later Buck finally found Blue's horse. His nephew had made himself comfortable at the river. Buck looked around. "Hi, Blue Boy. It's pretty here," he began. "I've been looking for you for two days. I was worried about you, Blue Boy."

Blue shot his uncle a doubtful glance. Buck loaded the gun his nephew had been leaning carelessly against a somewhat distant rock, and sat down opposite him. "It ain't safe to be here alone. There's Apache everywhere. Come on, saddle up. We gonna go home."

Blue shook his head. "I ain't going."

"I know how you feel, boy. But getting yourself killed ain't gonna prove nothing. Besides, I'd miss ya." Blue looked carefully at his uncle. The man seemed to be telling the truth.

"Now, whether you like it or not, we're going home," Buck ordered impatiently.

Blue shook his head. "I don't have a home."

"Trouble with you is you expect other people to figure you, but you don't figure other people," Buck exclaimed.

"He had no right, Buck," Blue started to sob. "He had no right to bring that woman into my mother's house. She wasn't even cold in her grave."

"Did you ever give your pa a chance to tell you about it? I wanted to tell you this the other day. Blue Boy, I wanted to tell you. You see, they had no choice in the matter, neither of 'em."

"There ain't no reason big enough for what he did, Buck," Blue said stubbornly and walked away.

Buck came after him. "Well, this is neither the time nor the place, but I'm gonna try to explain it to you." He threw the gun to the ground and stood behind his nephew. "Old Montoya figured it was the only way he could trust your pa. No marriage, no alliance against Cochise, and no High Chaparral."

Blue half turned. "It's about the High Chaparral, isn't it. He cares more about them darn cattle than he does for me, doesn't he!"

Buck grabbed his nephew by the arm. "You listen to me, boy," he exploded. "The High Chaparral is for you. A man has a dream for his son, that's his legacy."

"I don't want to talk. No!" Blue pushed his uncle away and turned his back on him.

Buck glanced up at the rocks before he stood in an exactly calculated distance behind Blue. He put a hand on his nephew's shoulder. "Blue, I'm asking you for the last time to come home."

Blue turned around abruptly, letting his fist fly, delivering a glancing blow to Buck's cheek. Buck rubbed his mouth. "Made ya feel better?" he asked quietly.

"Buck, I don't care. I don't care. I don't understand nothing," Blue howled hysterically.

Buck, in a lightning-fast move, raised his fist and delivered a blow that threw Blue into the water. Buck followed hot on his heels. "You don't understand? Well, you're gonna understand this," he growled and held his nephew's head under water.

"Buck, turn loose of me," Blue gasped when his uncle let him catch his breath. Buck had a death grip on his belt and shirt, administering a vigorous dunking. Then Blue held his breath once more as he headed under again, pinned tightly until his lungs began to burn.

Buck finally let his nephew breathe and forced him look up at the rocks. "Now, stop it. Look over there and there." He nodded towards the Apache sentries who stood on the canyon wall, watching them with frightening intensity. "They ain't gonna get me, and they ain't gonna get you. You know why? Your pa needs us, and I need you. Now, come on, boy. If we live through this, someday we'll talk it over. Now, you get on that nag, go!"

Buck hauled him out and tossed him on the bank. Blue coughed violently, shaking water from his hair. His uncle loomed over him, hands on his hips, glaring at him.

Buck gave his nephew a push that made Blue stagger up the embankment. "Run for it!" He covered Blue while the young man saddled his horse. They raced back to the ranch, their pursuers hot on their heels. Joe had just enough time to bar the gate again after they were through, then the Apaches had come dangerously close. It was only a small group that veered off at the last moment. But they knew that they could expect a large-scale attack any time now.

All remained on the alert. When the night came, they were still waiting, their nerves strung high. John slowly approached his son who had taken up position near the gate between Buck and Joe. Blue glanced at his father and slowly looked away again. John said nothing, he just smiled in relief and moved on to Ira who was guarding a section of the fence with Pedro and two others.

"All quiet?" John asked.

Ira nodded. "Like a tomb."

Pedro shot him a dark look. "Ain't you got a better word for it?" he complained.

Ira shrugged with an apologetic half-smile.

"Keep your eyes open," the rancher said. "When they come, they'll come sudden."

Victoria stepped out of the house. John went to her with measured steps, handing his wife his revolver. "Thank you, my husband." Victoria took the weapon, her hands shaking slightly.

"You better go into the house," John said and led her back to the veranda.

A while later the roof guard fired a shot to draw the others' attention. Everyone turned to the gate. Three Apache warriors approached the ranch. Two riders in red shirts flanked a smaller man in a black shirt who was wearing a bear claw necklace. Each of them held a war lance.

"There's the big man himself," Buck said grimly.

"That's Cochise?" Blue asked.

"That's him," his father spoke up as he made the rounds among his men.

"He don't look so big, does he," Blue told his uncle.

"He's big, boy," Buck replied respectfully. "Before this day is over, he'll be bigger yet, I guarantee."

John came to Mano who intently watched the Apaches. "What are you grinning at?" Big John asked.

"I don't know," Mano said. "I always grin before I fight. Makes me feel more like dying, I guess." John smilingly put his hand on Mano's shoulder and walked on.

The Apaches rode back to their warriors. After a while, chanting could be heard. "What's all that noise, Buck?" Blue wanted to know.

To everybody's surprise it was Mano who answered. "They are calling their gods to protect them in battle."

"A little prayer wouldn't hurt us now, either," Buck said, lowering his head.

"Pretty soon, Sam," Joe commented quietly.

"Yeah," his brother answered with a frown. "Ain't many men still alive who have heard that sound, Joe."

"Kinda gets you on edge, don't it?" Reno asked.

"Un poquito," Pedro agreed, tugging nervously at his earlobe.

The Apaches lined up in front of the ranch, still out of range. The ranch hands readied their rifles. Cochise gave the order to attack, and the front row of riders moved. The closer they got the faster they spurred their horses on. Then the war cries erupted.

XXX

Reno wiped the sweat from his brow. The first wave of attack was over. The Apaches had not managed to break through. However, their horses had destroyed the fence in some places. Suddenly shots came from the defenders in the backyard. The team at the gate dispatched some men, but they had to take cover halfway between the battle sites. The Apaches rode through the holes in the fence, and hand-to-hand combat ensued.

All of a sudden the nightmare ended. Both sides took stock. The courtyard was littered with Apache bodies, dead horses, lances jutting up like the lost banners of defeat. Blue was leaning in exhaution against the wall, his revolver dangling forgotten in his hand, staring in a stupor at nothing. The buoyant spirit of the young had gone out of him. He looked older, drawn, pale, his face covered with dust, gunpowder, grime and a long scratch on his cheek.

Mano, a bit grimy, came to him. "Qué pasó, hombre?" he asked, sounding still cheerful – inordinately so in Blue's opinion.

"Are they coming again?" Blue mumbled and sluggishly started to get up to fight.

Mano gave Blue a once-over, touching the boy's shoulder. "No. Not yet. There is a wounded man over there. Will you help me carry him into the house?" he asked quietly.

Blue blinked wearily at him, nodded, then made an effort and rose, following Mano through the debris to the wounded man. When his brain realised beside whom Mano was kneeling down, Blue froze in shock. The man was slender, strong, ascetic-looking.

"But he is – an Apache?!" Blue sputtered.

Mano nodded calmly. "Sí. His name is Nock-ay-del."

Blue drew his revolver. "Get out of the way!" he hissed.

Mano came to Blue, pushing the boy's gun hand down and keeping it there with an iron grip. "Hey, hombre. This man is hurt. He can do us no further harm."

"But he is an Apache," Blue repeated angrily.

Mano nodded again. "Sure. I told you his name. He has a wife, too – and a son."

"He ain't fit to live!" Blue yelled, the image of his mother with an arrow protruding from her chest burning in his mind.

Manolito squeezed Blue's shoulder with his free hand. "Look, he is a man," he patiently expainled. "He fought us bravely. I myself shot him. We are enemies, yes. But we are also men. When we fight, we fight as enemies. When the fighting is over, we are both men, eh? Put the gun away. Give me a hand."

Blue looked at Mano in puzzlement, but after a moment he reached down and helped lift the warrior.

Victoria had turned the ranch house into a hospital. Vaquero helped her. In the middle of the upheaval, Blue and Mano brought in an injured Apache. "Put him in there," Victoria ordered, pointing to the living room. She turned to her husband. "Get me some bandages and water."

"She is much woman, señor," Vaquero told his boss, admiration colouring his voice.

When they had put the Apache down on the living room table, Victoria gave him water. The man looked at her carefully before he drank.

"Manolo," Victoria asked her brother, "tell him he will not die."

Mano came to the table and translated for her. Nock-Ay-Del, that was the warrior's name, looked at Victoria and said something in his own language. She looked at her brother questioningly. "Victoria," Mano said, smiling at her, "he wants to know if you're one of the angels the Christian fathers talk of."

"Tell him no. I'm only a woman," she replied.

"He says in flesh you are a woman, in spirit you are something else."

Victoria smiled shyly at Nock-Ay-Del.

Blue had propped his arms on the shelf above the fireplace, his back to the others, and had listened in on the conversation. He turned around in amazement. "Funny way for an Apache to talk."

"He is a mystic, Blue. A holy man," Mano chided him gently. "There are many among the Apache, warrior priests."

"I never thought of them like that," Blue apologized. "I mean like they're human."

"You never do when you're at war," Big John commented grimly.

XXX

The next day the siege continued. Blue went to Buck who did guard duty at the gate. "Uncle Buck," he began uncertainly.

"Blue Boy," Buck greeted him.

"How do we stand?" Blue wanted to know.

Buck decided to deliberately misunderstand the question. He pulled an arrow from the fence. "Not so good. This will probably be our last chance," he said dejectedly and threw the arrow to the ground. "How do you feel?" he asked his nephew.

"I'm fine." Blue hesitated. "Uncle Buck?" he finally asked.

Buck did not look at him. "Hmm," he muttered, his eyes fixed rigidly on the landscape in front of the fence.

"Look, I"m sorry what happened up in the hills."

Buck suddenly smiled at his nephew. "Forget it. What's an uncle for if you can't kick him around a little?"

Blue laughed in relief. "I know, but I'm just glad you're my uncle," he answered.

Buck looked back out over the ranch to the desert. At Blue's words he briefly closed his eyes, then put his hand on his nephew's shoulder. When he turned back to the desert, he saw the riders. "Uh oh uh oh, Blue Boy, here they come," he said in a deadly serious voice.

The Apaches attacked with all their warriors. They broke through the defense of the ranch. There were heavy losses on both sides. Blue killed an Apache in close combat. He was so shocked that he forgot to stay under cover. An arrow struck his back. Blue went down.

Pedro had almost been impaled by a lance. Mano ran to him and tackled the warrior. "Are you okay?" he asked and helped Pedro to his feet.

"Gracias, amigo," Pedro thanked him.

"De nada," Mano smiled, then gave a start. "Hey," he shouted. An Apache rider approached them at breakneck speed.

They hastily ran for cover in opposite directions. Pedro threw himself behind a saguaro cactus. When he peeked out again, he noticed the arrow that was sticking in its stem. Pedro whistled through his teeth and quickly looked for better cover.

Joe caught an arrow in the leg. He grimaced in pain but did not stop shooting.

In the middle of the fight, five Apaches advanced on the house. They used a board as a battering ram to open the door. A ranch hand who was guarding the house shot through the door. Two of the attackers fell dead to the ground. The others continued and succeeded eventually. The ranch hand had thrown away his gun and tried in vain to keep the door closed. The Apaches shot him when they invaded. Victoria finished off a third warrior, then let go of the gun in shock. Nock-Ay-Del shouted in his own language to the two remaining warriors to spare the woman, since she had helped him. The two men hesitated. Then slowly, with awe and respect, they backed away from her. Buck and John stormed in a moment later. They had not understood a single word and shot them.

Tears were running down Victoria's face. She was trembling. John took his wife in his arms. "Now, it's finished. It's finished," he soothed her. Once she had calmed down, he left the house again.

John came just in time to see Cochise and his remaining warriors forming a half-circle in front of the ranch gate, well outside the range of the defenders' rifles. The men tensed, expecting another attack. Cochise raised his lance in John's direction, then wheeled his horse around to face his men and shouted something. Without hesitation, the warriors turned and rode off.

"He salutes you – one brave man to another," Manolito explained, seeing the surprise on Big John's face.

And maybe, just maybe, Nock-ay-del was more important than either Mano or Big John realised, Buck mused but kept this thought to himself.

It was time to clean up.

"Señor Cannon!" Pedro had found Blue. He gently pulled the arrow from Blue's back, then stepped aside.

John knelt beside his son and turned him carefully over. He took Blue's face in his hands. "Billy? Billy?" he whispered.

Blue moaned softly, but did not regain consciousness.

"Buck!" John shouted. His brother came running towards him. Together they carried Blue into the house.

XXX

Blue woke slowly. He was lying in his bed, a bandage around his midsection. The locket with his mother's picture hung on a chain around his neck. Victoria gently stroked his cheek, then pushed her husband to the bed. Big John got down on one knee and looked at his son, his eyes suspiciously bright.

"Pa," Blue whispered weakly. "Did we beat 'em?"

John nodded. "Yeah, son, we beat 'em," he answered quietly. "You just get well. That's all that matters." He gently put his hand on his son's shoulder, letting Blue touch his cheek and wipe a tear away, before he left.

Buck came to Blue, smiling slightly. Blue's hand had closed around the locket. Buck covered his nephew's hand with his own. "Uncle Buck, he cried. Uncle Buck, I think he loves me," Blue whispered in amazement.

Buck's smile grew larger. "Yeah, Blue Boy, he loves you. He always has."

Buck gave his nephew a friendly slap on the cheek, then left the room as well to let Blue sleep.

Three days later Blue was back on his feet. Nock-Ay-Del had recovered as well. John had given him one of the captured Apache horses. "Tell Cochise I want to live in peace. Tell him before winter I will meet with him and talk peace," the rancher said to Nock-Ay-Del in parting.

Mano translated. "He says the Apache are men, this is their country. A man fights for his country. Peace will be very difficult," he added worriedly. "He says many will die, but he hopes that of blood on the earth will grow a new land, that we can live as men and truly brothers in our heart."

John and Mano smiled at each other. Nock-Ay-Del spurred his horse on and rode away. The crew of the High Chaparral watched him go.

"You know something, Pa?" Blue said. "This is beautiful country, and it's our country. And it's gonna be ours for a long time."

John smiled and hugged his son briefly.

"Blue Boy, we've got lots of work to do," Buck told his nephew. He began to sing. "Buffalo Blue, we got lots of work to do."

They dismounted at the corral. Victoria came to them. John put his arm around her, and they went together to the ranch house, their new home.


End file.
